


San Junipero

by IzzyLightwood



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Black Mirror - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 08:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IzzyLightwood/pseuds/IzzyLightwood
Summary: Disclaimer: I don’t own the episode of Black Mirror which inspired this fic, San Junipero, and I don't own Dan or Phil lol





	San Junipero

     It wasn’t the worst place to spend your time. Lights bright enough to make him see blobs behind his eyes, a couple cinemas and dance clubs. Dan had always wanted to travel to the States, and he had to say that if this Californian town was anything to go from, America was really something. Life surrounded him from every angle where he walked along the pavement. Everywhere he looked was someone smiling, someone kissing someone else, someone laughing, running, crying. It was all so alive, so tangible, everything he had ever wanted to be.

     He walked into the first little club he saw, the sign on the front of the building read _Caspar’s_. When he ducked inside, his height never failing to exceed that of a regular doorway, he breathed in smoke and the smell of 70 bodies moving against one another. Dan had never been in a club before, not a pub or bar or anything of the like. With parents stricter than those of anyone he knew and an introverted personality, he’d never been given the chance. And he hadn’t thought to just take it, he supposed, and maybe that was worse.

     Regardless, Caspar’s appeared to be on the safe side and, even then, as it had always been in his anxiety-ridden subconscious, he wanted only to find a quiet place to sit on his own. So many people, pulsating with laughter that bounced off the walls and into their sloshing drinks. Self-conscious, he habitually fiddled with the leather strap secured at his wrist. What he was doing here had yet to be determined. Looking around, it came to him that he was trying to see if he could _belong_ here. A place to fit in, find his piece of the world. What a change that would be from his usual.

     His eyes slid around the room—which felt much too small to be safe for this many bodies and positively had to be a fire hazard—before spotting the arcade. A smile broke across Dan’s lips, despite himself; he’d always loved gaming as a kid. (Okay, who was he kidding? He lived for it still.) He made his way through the crowd of clownishly-dressed teenagers and young adults. The clothing was something else, and with his dislike for any colour too bright, the fashion of the late 80s was another aspect of the world from which he stood apart. The first game he began was [_Galaga_](https://static.turbosquid.com/Preview/2014/05/18__20_00_00/galaga_01.jpg976ceffc-533d-47cd-8f41-b7fe8e4924b0Original.jpg), an ultimate favorite of his. The raucous sounds of the bar faded out as he focused, the same as they had back when he was 10 in his bedroom and trying to block out his parents’ arguments as they would crescendo and vibrate through the walls.

     A voice appeared to Dan’s left, and he glanced up for half a second to see it was a girl. An obvious partier, she was wearing a green bejeweled jacket with black pants and the highest heels he’d ever seen. Her jewelry was all dangled to draw attention, and her makeup was applied so densely upon her face Dan almost wondered if she looked like a completely different person beneath it. It was the style, he reminded himself, in an attempt to be less harsh. But even that was generous. This couldn’t possibly ever have been popular.

     “ _Galaga_ , huh?” she said. “My favorite’s [_Tetris_](http://media.gamespy.com/columns/image/article/115/1151159/gamespys-top-50-arcade-games-of-all-time-20110221090450898.jpg).”

     He tried to smile. “That one’s good too. I think I’m better at this, though.”

     “I could tutor you,” the girl said with a wry grin. Dan shook his head in the slightest, his hand releasing the joystick as he sidestepped her.

     “No, thanks. I’m actually just… I need to get some air.” The girl raised her eyebrows as he walked past, back into the compressed horde. The lights were dim and intense, and it almost made his head hurt. He stopped for a soda and then finally got through to the other side of the club where he fell into a booth, scrubbing his fingers through his too-long brown hair. This wasn’t what he’d had in mind. Why had he even come in here? This wasn’t his scene, nor had it ever been his scene. Just look at him. Gangly and tall, skinny—so skinny his collarbones resembled soup ladles—dull brown eyes. These people were ablaze, while Dan looked like a torch dusted with dirt to muffle its shine.

     He had been seated for only a minute when voices came closer to him, loud. A boy slipped onto the rubber beside Dan, sliding in until they were much too close for comfort. He was more of a man, really, maybe Dan’s age, and blue eyes beneath a black fringe of hair fell onto Dan as he said, “Whatever happens, just do as I say.”

     “Huh?”

     “Just go along with what I say,” he repeated. Just then, a woman walked up to the table with wide eyes.

     “What the hell?” she demanded. “Why can’t you just talk to me?”

     “I’m trying to have a good time, Liza,” the stranger said to her. Meanwhile, Dan could only watch in bewilderment.

     “Phil! I want to be with you,” Liza argued. “I can’t imagine that’s a bad thing.”

     The man, evidently called Phil, shook his head. “Look, I’d love to go on about this with you, Liza—nothing I’d like more, really—but, see, the whole reason I came tonight was to check up on my friend. He’s dying.”

     Though his hands were balled at in his lap, Dan worked to keep his expression neutral. “Five months.” Phil sent a glance his way; surprised appreciation could be seen in it. Liza looked taken aback, and even stepped away as well.

     “Shit. I’m sorry. That’s the pits.”

     “Yeah. It is,” agreed Phil, pointedly. “We’ve got some catching up to do, Liza, I’m sorry; but tonight isn’t the best time for this.” Liza raised her hands and walked off, looking over her shoulder at Phil only once before exiting. He didn’t watch her go, focused on Dan. “That was great!” he praised him.

     “It was nothing,” Dan insisted, squirming away from the warmth Phil’s arm was pressing into his own.

     “The ‘five months’ bit was brilliant; _I_ even believed you for a second. Have you ever considered acting as a profession? _Are_ you an actor?”

     “No.”

     Phil studied Dan’s face, then stood in a fluid motion of which Dan was sure he couldn’t replicate even if he were to practice forever. “Come on,” Phil said. “You look like you could use another drink.”

     “I don’t.”

     “Yes, you do. Let’s go.” He pulled Dan’s arm insistently enough that Dan had to get up and follow Phil to the bar, where he said easily, “Vodka and coke, times two.”

     “Mine didn’t have any Vodka in it,” Dan protested.

     “Well, this one will.” Phil grinned over at him. “I’m Phil, by the by.”

     “Dan.”

     “So you been before?”

     Dan eyed him wearily. “Been where?”

     Phil sipped his drink, handing the other to Dan and apparently forgetting the question. “Here.” Dan didn’t bother fighting it and took the glass. It burned on the slope down, reminding him of molten lava oozing down a volcano, and all of this plus the tears that sprung to his eyes made him quite sure that he didn’t want to drink any more of it. It erased Phil’s question from his mind and he considered himself lucky that he didn’t choke on the stuff. Phil got up from the stool he had sat on only a second ago and looked around. “We should dance,” he announced.

     “I’m sorry, what?”

     “We should dance,” Phil said again. “It’ll be fun.”

     “I can’t,” Dan said. “I look like—” He glanced down at himself, black t-shirt and jeans, jacket of the same. He was so average looking compared to this Phil, his entire outfit [a shade of turquoise with wide-set lapels](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d3/c0/eb/d3c0eb434be5ad8c0159e59aa06d0c19.jpg). “I look like a drowned giraffe.”

     “I promise you, you don’t,” Phil assured him. “And the denim’s choice.”

     Dan ignored the compliment with red cheeks. “I’ll look stupid.”

     “You won’t. Come on. Why limit ourselves?” He went to the dance floor, and Dan watched for a second before dragging himself onto his feet to go after him. Phil was already dancing as if no one were in the room with him, completely liberated and careless. Dan wondered how he could do that, and wished that he himself had the ability to give such disregard to the world around him the way Phil seemed to have honed.

     “I don’t know how to do this,” he said, and Phil pointed to his ears. Dan repeated his words, and Phil smiled. He was a couple inches shorter than Dan, as most everyone was, but his countenance made him seem much larger. Dan, by comparison, was basically the hunchback.

     “Sure you do. Just follow my lead.” Whatever it was Phil was doing, Dan was sure he could never accomplish it. He did try, if only for a moment, and he couldn’t say that seeing Phil dance only a few inches in front of him wasn’t doing things to him. When he noted this, he took note also of the fact that people were looking. At him, dancing here. At them. He hated being seen more than anything, he wasn’t used to it, and the last time he’d been seen was through the eyes of judgement shaded to him by his parents. He couldn’t do this.

     Dan shoved his way through the partiers and was gone so quickly that before Phil had turned back to face him, he was gone. He leaned against the dumpster outside the building, the raindrops making his beating heart slow to its normal pace. He inhaled the crisp air, grateful for it, and tugged his frayed [denim jacket](https://dizzee-kipling411.tumblr.com/post/159495660942/my-dizzee-kipling-inspired-jacket-if-anyones) tighter around himself. There was a button missing in one of the places he’d sewn them into, he saw, and made a scratch into his mental notebook to find another button to patch it.

     “Hey,” Phil said, peeking out from the doorway of the club to see him. “What’re you doing?”

     Dan shrugged. “Needed space.”

     “You okay?” Phil asked. He stood beside Dan, arms crossed over his chest and blue eyes aglow.

     “I guess. What’s that mean, really?” Dan trailed off. He didn’t know how to formulate his words into any sort of coherent structure right now. This wasn’t… He wasn’t used to this. New territory hadn’t ever been his strong suit. “I couldn’t be in there.”

     “Why not?”

     “They were looking. At us. You know, two guys dancing together.”

      Phil chuckled a little, flipping the fringe from his face. “Dan, people aren’t like how they used to be. They’re way less uptight. And besides, this is a party town. Don’t you know that no one here could care less about what ‘two guys’ do together in their spare time? They’re too concerned with what _they’ll_ be doing. Or who.”

      Cracking a smile, Dan’s eyes fell to the ground. “Yeah, of course you’re right,” he said, then shook his head, almost at himself. “But it’s easier said than done.”

     “It doesn’t have to be,” Phil said. He looked at his hands, then at Dan’s. “Nice bracelet.”

     “Thanks…”

     “It suits you. Simple. I like that. Most everyone in there—around here, generally—they all try to look like how they think they _should_ look. Probably stuff celebrities sport and actually get paid for.” He tapped the strap at Dan’s wrist. “But this. It’s authentically you. Jacket too.”

     Dan lowered his gaze from Phil’s. It was too much to take. “Thanks.”

     “I’m guessing you’re new here.”

     “First night, yeah.”

     “What?” Phil’s grin widened. “Fantastic. I remember my first night here. Danced the night away.”

     “I’ve never been on a dance floor before,” Dan admitted. “Aside from tonight, I mean.”

     “‘Never’ as in never-before-in-your-entire-life ‘never’?” Phil whistled, low, with his gaze turned to the dark sky. “That’s too depressing to take.” He looked Dan’s way again. “Anything else you’ve yet to try in your evidently sheltered existence?”

     “Where do I even begin?” Dan asked, more to the air than Phil. “There’s… so many things I haven’t done it feels like I’ve already got half my body in the ground.”

     “Well, come on. It’s only eleven. Let’s have some fun before the night’s out. And so you know, my night ends around three.”

     Dan noticed that Phil had moved closer, and while part of him wanted to help close what very little distance remained between them, he knew that he shouldn’t do this.

     “I—I can’t,” he said.

     Phil’s body relaxed immediately, away from Dan’s, as he said, “Okay.”

     “No, you don’t understand—” Dan said quickly.

     “Really, it’s fine.”

     “It’s just—I’m engaged,” said Dan. Phil actually looked surprised, then, his eyebrows raised. “Her name’s Bethany. I… I’m getting married in a month.”

     “Wow. Well, I’m sure she must be quite something,” Phil said. He pushed off the dumpster while Dan did the same.

     “Yeah. Erm—” Dan stuck out his hand. “It was really great to meet you.”

     “Likewise.”

     “Bye.” Dan walked past Phil, a tugging deep inside his gut like that of the incessant nagging of a child to his mum’s pant leg. He stopped after fifteen feet, stood beneath the lights of the alleyway. The rain trickled over him, through his shirt, and his fists were clenched at his sides as he fought the cold. When he turned to see Phil, he saw only that he had already left.

***

     A week later, Dan returned to Caspar’s. He couldn’t help himself. He hadn’t even meant to, but his feet had rambled all over the town and had brought him back to the bar, his heart yearning for something he couldn’t place. All he had was a name.

     He spent more time than he would have liked in his efforts to find a suitable outfit, and ended up looking exactly the same as he always had. Nevertheless, he walked into Caspar’s with his shoulders pushed back and eyes up, trying to spot Phil in the crowd. He found him sat at the counter with a woman, but couldn’t bring himself to interrupt. He stood off to the side, about to turn away when Phil’s wandering gaze traveled to Dan. There was the slightest wink in his eye, and Dan smiled.

     When Phil didn’t make a move to get up, however, his smile fell away. What had he been thinking? That Phil would ditch his date for a few words with Dan? What a waste of a night. He went to a table in the back of the club, upset with himself and upset at Phil for refusing to leave his jumbled head.

     Dan had gotten to the bottom of only one drink when Phil came to sit at a booth diagonal from his. He was still with that woman, who had smooth blonde hair and pretty lips. She wasn’t bad looking by any means, but not Dan’s type by any means either. He hated that he kept looking over to them and their flirty exchanges, as if he had the right to be made uneasy by the sight. He hardly knew Phil, and it didn’t matter that Dan had come here in the idea that he could _get_ to know him because, as had been made clear, Phil didn’t give a shit.

     But was that true? Phil lifted his drink and his eyes again came to rest on Dan; Dan felt the pull and looked his way, startled. He didn’t know what to do. Was Phil going to pretend he wasn’t there like he had thirty minutes before?

     “Bathroom,” he said to the woman next to him. He slid out of the booth with ease and sauntered with radiated casualty into the men’s toilet. Dan followed a minute later, sure that Phil wouldn’t have looked at him or spoken so loudly if he hadn’t intended for Dan to take it as a message. One other person was leaving the restroom when Dan pushed through the door. He saw Phil was fixing his dark hair in the mirror, so nonchalant it made Dan’s stomach constrict.

     “Can’t you make this easy for me?” he said. Phil didn’t say anything. “I’ve never done something like this before and I can’t figure out what I’m meant to do.”

     Phil stood up straighter and faced Dan. “Do about what?”

     “Just help me.”

***

     They sped down the highway in Phil’s BMW, windows cranked to let in the cool air of the night.

     “So how long have you been in town?” Dan asked Phil over the noise.

     “A couple months. I’d say the plan is staying long enough to enjoy myself.” He grinned at Dan. “So I guess I’m a tourist like you, huh?” Dan looked out the window, quiet. “Did I say something wrong?”

     Being reminded of the fact that this wasn’t his home made Dan want to scream. ‘Home,’ or what he’d had all his life, had never felt much like what everyone described a home to be. He knew a home wasn’t a house, but the people _inside_ ; maybe even just one solitary person. He had yet to find him or her, and was growing increasingly afraid that he wasn’t meant to. But Dan didn’t say any of this to Phil, because who wanted that kind of baggage, and tried to put a smile onto his face when he turned back his way. “No,” said Dan. “All good.”

     Phil lived by the water, a life he couldn’t begin to imagine. Waking up to the hot sand with lapping waves, sunshine warming his head. It would be a dream. And the inside wasn’t too shabby. Dan couldn’t help but look around in awe of the place, with its vibrant colors here, and the pastel there. It was diverse and cultured, just as Phil himself seemed to be.

     Phil noticed Dan’s open mouth and laughed. “Not bad, yeah?”

     “It’s huge.”

     “It’s alright.”

     Dan smiled softly at the image of a woman on Phil’s desk. She was smiling, mid-laugh, and behind her was a sign that said _Happy Birthday, Cathy!_ “Is this your mum?” he enquired.

     Phil moved to grasp Dan’s waist, looking somberly into his eyes. “We could talk about my mum, or…” He was smiling a little, and Dan couldn’t breathe.

     He kissed him, the obvious remedy to a lack of air. He couldn’t explain it, but kissing Phil was like having his lungs pumped full up.

***

     “I didn’t wake up today thinking I’d end up here,” Phil said. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling of his room. Dan was to his left, situated on his side to watch him.

     “I can’t say I wasn’t hopeful,” he admitted, and Phil breathed out a laugh. He smiled at Dan, and it was like the sun peeking out from behind a dark cloud.

     “I’ve never actually been with a guy before,” Phil told Dan.

     “Well, I’ve never been with one either,” Dan said. “Not _any_ one, in fact.”

     Phil altered his position to face Dan, his eyebrows lifted. “As in, no men or women—neither?”

     “Nope. I guess you took my innocence, as they say.”

     Phil laughed, his whole body shaking with it. Dan loved that he could evoke such a reaction. “What a brilliant concept,” Phil said. “I hope you weren’t saving it for someone special.” He paused. “Wait, you’re engaged. And you haven’t…”

     Dan closed his eyes. “It’s complicated.”

     “The universal tell-tale of _I don’t want to talk about it_.”

     Dan opened his eyes to look at him. “When did you know that you like men?”

     “Hello, you must be my new shrink. But the others usually wait until we’ve gotten a few questions in…”

     “No, seriously,” Dan said, nudging Phil’s shoulder. “Did you wake up and just… know?”

     “Well, no; I can’t say it works that way. At least, it didn’t for me. I never thought about it. I just knew that I didn’t want to have sex with a girl. Wasn’t it like that for you? It was too—it just sounded so gross, you know? I can’t even describe…” Allowing himself to laugh a little, Phil shook his head. “And I thought it was a phase, like I was too young. I told myself that same thing until I was 17, when I kind of just… I knew I couldn’t blame it on my age anymore.” Phil knotted his fingers together. “But then I met my wife.”

     Dan couldn’t keep the surprise off his face. “You were married?”

     “I was. It’s a while ago now.” Phil almost looked to be picturing his wife in his mind. “She was beautiful, on the inside and out. I loved her. I didn’t want to sleep with her, really, I didn’t have the desire to… but she was my best friend and the best companion I could ever hope to have so I took it. But only a couple years’d gone by before we realised that a marriage requires a bit more than, at best, platonic love.” His smile soft and sad, he rubbed a thumb over Dan’s cheek. “So now here I am. Passing through. Trying new things. I’m going to have a good time before my time’s up.”

     “I’m not engaged,” Dan blurted. “I mean, I am—I _was_. It hasn’t been broken off officially…” Phil didn’t say anything, and it was clear that he was waiting patiently for Dan to explain. “I dated Beth for my parents’ sake. My family. To be—straight and all that.” He touched the hand Phil had settled onto the sheet between them. “I let it get too far with her; I know that. It’s why I left Manchester.”

     “To escape.”

     “I needed the space. I always have. I’ve just never had the courage to venture on my own. Or do something like _this_.” His cheeks became tinted with pink and he rolled onto his back with a moan. “I’m so pathetic,” he murmured, fingers tangled in his tousled waves.

     “Hey, I make it a rule never to sleep with anyone pathetic,” Phil admonished him.

     “Rules are made to be broken,” Dan quipped in return.

     “It’s my lucky night,” Phil said, poking Dan’s hip. He started at the touch, laughing, and turned his back as Phil moved closer and nestled his arms around his stomach. Dan closed his eyes at the feel of Phil’s lips on the backside of his neck. He usually had a phobia about the area, but not so much right now.

     “Mine too.”

***

     The following Saturday arrived and this time, Dan went to Caspar’s with the conscious intent of doing so. He looked around, waiting for his eyes to be drawn to the man he was there for, but he couldn’t see him. All the usual people, except for the in one particular he wanted. He went to the bar and asked the bartender, who said that he hadn’t seen Phil that night. He told him to try Ophelia’s.

     “What’s that?” Dan asked.

     The bartender, Markus, laughed a little. “If you don’t know already, you probably won’t want to. It’s a club. Outskirts of town. Phil’s been known to hang around there on occasion.”

     Dan leaned back, drumming his fingers against the countertop. He considered Phil’s absence a fluke and took Markus’ advice to check out Ophelia’s. He called a cab outside and made it within fifteen minutes, but wasn’t very comforted at its presence—the club itself had the scale of a haunted mansion, and the darkness afforded to the atmosphere by the night didn’t do anything to help Dan’s nerves. Reminded eerily of junior high, he steeled himself and walked inside. Immediately, he was berated with what sounded like animal screeches made by human mouths and a smell he had no desire to identify. The air was dense with smoke, the hallway absent of lights, and Dan was forced to move within tight corridors of partiers he had no business being near. All were dressed in a horrifyingly funky fashion; it screamed of the occult. Dan had to admit that, when given the option, he much preferred the toned-down Caspar’s.

     There were dancers in cages, drinks somehow made to be neon-green, netted tights—Dan couldn’t imagine what Phil would want from this place. He thought of Phil’s eyes, scattering colors, and his flirtatious grin. Did he honestly enjoy these terrifying people? It was all a bit much for Dan to handle so he left before he’d been there for five minutes. On his way out, he caught sight of Liza, the girl Phil had been with a couple weeks back.

     “Hey! Have you seen Phil?” he called to her. Liza stopped in her tracks, teetering on her high heels. She held a martini glass and squinted at him.

     “You too, huh?” She shook her head, as if in pity. “Haven’t seen him. Try Dizzee’s, or Tilt. Even ran into him at Rumi’s once.”

     Dan nodded his thanks and continued for the exit. He managed to stay on his feet even when something that had to be a small cat or a large rat scurried across his path. Over the next couple weeks, he checked out the joints Liza had suggested to him in regards to Phil, but neither Tilt nor Dizzee’s contained who he was looking for and by now he was running out of options.

     He walked into Rumi’s and worked around the crowd. He wanted to talk to Phil, so badly. He missed him, embarrassingly enough, and hoped that he missed Dan too. That he knew of, no one had ever really missed him before.

     Near the entrance of the arcade Dan spotted a black machine with the words [_Bubble Bobble_](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/15/94/f7/1594f71f9c8c86c76d8f4d35f0648bd2.png) banded across the top. A man stood there in a denim jacket and boots. Dan would recognize that black mop anywhere.

     “Phil,” he said. At the sound of Dan’s voice, Phil turned to give him a glance that lasted less than a second and then, as if he hadn’t recognized Dan, attempted to brush by without a word. Confused, Dan tried to reach for his arm as he did.

     “Where’re you going?” he asked. “Can’t we talk for a second?”

     Phil pushed into the bathroom close by, sighing. “What for?”

     “Well, three weeks ago we slept together and then you disappeared,” Dan said, as if Phil weren’t already aware of this. “I haven’t seen you until _tonight_. It’s like you’re—avoiding me.” Phil didn’t say anything. “What— _are_ you avoiding me?”

     “We had fun,” Phil said. “Yeah? Why make this more complicated than it has to be?”

     “Make _what_ complicated?”

     “I’m just here to have a good time while I can,” Phil said, like Dan hadn’t said a word. “You knew that the night we met. Maybe you aren’t used to it because you’ve had, like, no experience in this—”

     Dan fell a step back from Phil. His leather jacket was suddenly too heavy in this small washroom, the lights too penetrating. “So the fact that I trusted you, more than anyone else in my entire life—that means shit to you?” Phil opened his mouth to reply, but Dan didn’t give him the chance. He could hear Phil weakly calling his name but he didn’t turn around as he shoved his way out to the pavement.

     What a gullible idiot he’d been. A complete dumbass, thinking that someone would hold him in some regard when 21 years should’ve showed him that at this point it wasn’t happening. He saw a rooftop and climbed the ladder he found bolted to its side; his legs hung in open air from the ledge he’d settled upon. The breeze rustling the hair off from Dan’s forehead was soothing. The moon was just about full and radiant; it lit up the night. Dan had always considered himself a night owl, a space fiend, had even drawn the solar system in assorted colours on the back of his jean jacket. This was why.

     Without having to look, Dan could feel that Phil had come up to the roof. “Don’t worry,” Dan told him. “Not that you would mind one way or the other, I’m not going to casually leap from a building. Not tonight, at least.”

     Phil took a step to drop down beside Dan. “I didn’t think you would, really. You aren’t stupid.”

     Dan looked over at him, his eyes searching Phil’s face. “Aren’t I?”

     “Dan, I’m sorry for disappearing. Really. I just… I’ve been doing this for a few weeks now and I love the feeling of just—knowing that I’m free. You know?” Phil huffed out some air, hands pressed to the cold concrete. “No commitments. Being tied to another person after my wife…”

     “You couldn’t handle it,” Dan surmised.

     “And I didn’t want to feel what I knew I felt when I saw you that first night,” Phil said. “Like actually _looked_ at you beside that dumpster. I didn’t know I’d… How was I supposed to know you were _you_?”

     Dan leaned forward and, gently tugging Phil’s jean collar, kissed him. He had nothing to say in words, and the movement of Phil’s hands to his neck told Dan he knew that. Dan paused, though, and took a quick look at the street some fifty feet below. “Maybe a relocation would be a good idea.”

     “Couldn’t agree more.” Phil swung his legs over to the relative safety of the rooftop and offered Dan a hand. He accepted it with a small smile.

     “Can’t believe you tried to ghost me,” he teased.

     “Shut up, please and thank you.”

     “You’re lucky I’m the forgiving type,” Dan said, and began to laugh when Phil stopped walking to pull him against him.

     “Does that mean tonight’s another lucky night for us?” he asked, grinning.

     Dan bent down to press another kiss to Phil’s mouth. He grinned against his lips and murmured, “I’d say yes, but my fortune at the slot machines would make you way too jealous.”

     Surprised at Dan’s tease, Phil couldn’t contain a laugh. “And I thought you were sheltered.”

     “I have my moments.”

     Phil rolled his eyes and dragged Dan by the hand to the ladder. “Yeah, senior moments, old man.” He ignored Dan’s protestations that Phil is in fact Dan’s elder by more than a couple years. “It’s almost midnight and we have absolutely no time to waste.” Dan’s laugh softened and he squeezed Phil’s hand. “What?”

     “‘ _We_.’”

     Phil blushed. “My other rule is to never date nerds. I can’t believe every bit of ethical fiber I’ve clung to all this time has been trampled.”

     “Don’t sleep with anyone either pathetic or a nerd?” Dan nodded. “Model citizen with an incontestable code of morality.”

     “Danny.”

     “Philly.”

     Phil huffed, just now releasing Dan’s hand to begin the descent down the ladder. Almost immediately he missed the feel of their connected palms. “What a night,” he muttered.

     “Was that a no on the casino then?”

     “Dan!”

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own the episode of Black Mirror which inspired this fic, San Junipero, and I don't own Dan or Phil lol


End file.
